lesbianspaghetti

Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

My Big Fat Life – Orlando Shooting & Church Activists

In Uncategorized on June 12, 2017 at 10:31 pm

A year ago 49 people were gunned down in a nightclub in Orlando. They were targeted because they were gay.

I don’t talk much about the LGBT community since I left it behind, but when I see headlines that scream of violence against those who are victims of hate crimes based on their sexuality my heart is reminded of the struggle of what it means to be gay in America. While it is true that gay people have it considerably better than in most countries, it still isn’t a very good threshold to measure progression when it comes to the acceptance of others based on who they choose to love.

I came across a Facebook page recently of a woman who claims to be an activist for God. Her name is The Activist Mommy. I checked out her page after someone posted a Change.org link regarding a plight to get her page removed from Facebook. I highly doubt it will do much because people still have a right to be an asshole in the U.S., and freedom of speech is a vital thread of what makes us so unique as a country. People have a right to their opinion, no matter how much a douche it makes them look. The perk is we get to see who people really are when it comes to such political and religious views, so we get to know who to avoid.

I read her page looking for some semblance of compassion or love, and it wasn’t a huge surprise I didn’t find any. I don’t think it comes to the surprise of any in the community that the church has long bred an attitude that tolerance is somehow acceptance. I don’t even like that word “tolerance” because it somehow equates patronizing in my mind. People who strongly believe in the church (I say church for a reason), feel it is their duty to show just how much they disagree with conceived sin, so they post memes on Facebook, make status updates, hit the like button on every article that validates their belief, and comments on news feeds. They shout a hearty “AMEN” each time the man behind the pulpit proclaims they are making a stand on sin, as though the louder they agree it equals wearing a badge of honor to measure their integrity. But… it’s not.

Even if you believe that being gay is a vile sin that you act upon, the bible is still very clear about how we are to love. In fact, the act of love is spoken more than any scriptures you might find to address that being gay is a sin, and yet it is the single most act that most people fail to do well. Whether in relationships, to strangers, our neighbors, and friendships. Heck, I will admit I often suck at being nice to people when I feel I am right about something and they are in the wrong. When we feel we are right about something, it trumps our ability to love actively. We get so fixed on being right, and proving it, that we forget there is another person involved in our actions; the person on the receiving end of our stand or response.

I don’t doubt that some of these people believe they are doing God’s work, and believe that they are making a change in the world. On the other hand I know they are not doing anything other than creating more anger, hurt, and validation that God is nothing more than an angry man who is more interested in hurting us creatures on a spinning blue marble, than loving us. Yet, isn’t love the basic foundation of His message? Let’s just believe for a moment that all people believe in God, but who would want to serve such an angry and quick to condemn deity unless we had the fear of eternal damnation looming over us? No one. That is why the message of love is the most important message of all. The simple act of love without condition is the hardest to do for us. Perhaps that is why it has been written about so often. The message has to be driven to us. Paul wrote letters to the church about it, and depending how you feel about the truth of the cross, God sent His son to show us. Just being kind to others can be a challenge, let alone loving others we feel are in the wrong. I also find that the actions people get most fired up are the ones they either struggle against themselves, or can’t ever imagine acting upon. The first lending to the belief that if they fight against it enough it somehow will create almost a hatred for it and therefore reduce the temptation, and the second because people always argue what they don’t understand.

Love isn’t “tolerating” or accepting the acts of another as correct or in alignment of our own personal convictions. It’s loving that person regardless of what we personally believe. Our morals are separate from the act of love. We can love someone and have no relationship with them outside of our feeling for them. In fact, at times that is the best for everyone involved. I love my sister, but I can’t have a relationship with her because I don’t agree with her choices. Her choices affect me when she chooses to use drugs. I don’t want that around me, or my family. But I do love her. I want the best for her, yet I know that a relationship with her is not the best for me. She does really dumb things when she uses, and has removed my ability to trust her judgement. Does that mean I am going to yell and scream some condemnation at her every time I see her? No. Does my lack of doing so somehow translate that I am accepting or tolerant of her choices? Nope. It means I love her, but I choose not to allow her choices to influence my daily life anymore.

I have spent a lot of time talking to people during my time in the community. I have asked questions, listened to stories, and hurt as I listened to the damage the church has done. A majority of people in the LGBT community have already heard the message. There is nothing new you can scream from a picket line or post on Facebook that is something new to them. Most of them were raised in the church and already know the message. Many of them are still Christians and long for a relationship in a church; for human connection. They have struggled in their hearts knowing the message of the church, and their natural attractions. They have been at war with themselves so many times, there is no new scar you can leave that will laid upon three more. What they haven’t heard enough of, is love.

Chances are if you move about in society, you have already come in contact with a gay person. The lady behind the register, the Dr. treating you at the hospital, the vet who cares for your pet, the stranger you bumped into at the store, the man behind the ticket booth at the movies who sold you your ticket to the movie you have been waiting to see for months…. you get the idea. Chances are you have already come into contact with someone who is gay. Did you need to know their sexual orientation to be kind to them? Of course not. The act of being kind requires no back story. It requires nothing more than consideration without prejudice.

Sometime ago I had an argument with my boyfriend. I can’t even recall what it was about because so much time has passed that whatever it was obviously wasn’t that life altering. It’s my nature to walk away when I get upset.I need to allow the logic to rise above the emotion so I can think clearly, and the only way I can usually get there is to walk away to a quiet space and just ride it out. It’s a good thing because I can be quick to say really shitty things when I get upset. I’ve worked hard to be more careful with my words, even though I don’t always succeed. The other reason is because I grew up not being allowed to show emotion, so I instantly just walk away because I am used to having my thoughts and feelings discarded. What I can tell you I recall about that day is when I stood up to walk away and he reached for me. He put his arm out, touched me and gave me a hug. I couldn’t even tell you what I was wearing that day, but I can tell you how I felt in that moment. One simple action that isn’t so simple when we are hurt gave me a sense of love, security and acceptance regardless if he was disagreeing with me or not.  He wasn’t showing me a message of tolerance, or acceptance, but love.

Just love.

 

The 49 people who died because someone didn’t know how to love:

Edward Sotomayor Jr., 34

Stanley Almodovar III, 23

Luis Omar Ocasio-Capo, 20

Juan Ramon Guerroro, 22

Eric Ivan Ortiz-Rivera, 36

Peter O. Gonzalez-Cruz, 22

Luis S. Vielma, 22

Kimberly Morris, 37

Eddie Jamoldroy Justice, 30

Darryl Roman Burt II, 29

Deonka Deidra Drayton, 32

Alejandro Barrios Martinez, 21

Anthony Luis Laureano Disla, 25

Jean Carlos Mendez Perez, 35

Franky Jimmy Dejesus Velazquez, 50

Amanda Alvear, 25

Martin Benitez Torres, 33

Luis Daniel Wilson-Leon, 37

Mercedez Marisol Flores, 26

Xavier Emmanuel Serrano Rosado, 35

Gilberto Ramon Silva Menendez, 25

Simon Adrian Carrillo Fernandez, 31

Oscar A Aracena-Montero, 26

Enrique L. Rios Jr., 25

Miguel Angel Honorato, 30

Javier Jorge-Reyes, 40

Joel Rayon Paniagua, 32

Jason Benjamin Josaphat, 19

Cory James Connell, 21

Juan P. Rivera Velazquez, 37

Luis Daniel Conde, 39

Shane Evan Tomlinson, 33

Juan Chevez-Martinez, 25

Jerald Arthur Wright, 31

Leroy Valentin Fernandez, 25

Tevin Eugene Crosby, 25

Jonathan Antonio Camuy Vega, 24

Jean C. Nives Rodriguez, 27

Rodolfo Ayala-Ayala, 33

Brenda Lee Marquez McCool, 49

Yilmary Rodriguez Sulivan, 24

Christopher Andrew Leinonen, 32

Angel L. Candelario-Padro, 28

Frank Hernandez, 27

Paul Terrell Henry, 41

Antonio Davon Brown, 29

Christopher Joseph Sanfeliz, 24

Akyra Monet Murray, 18

Geraldo A. Ortiz-Jimenez, 25

 

My Big Fat Life – How the Hell Did I Get Here?

In Uncategorized on April 13, 2017 at 11:57 am

Two days ago I woke  of those migraines that I can only describe as one that if Shakespere were to have written about a migraine, surely it would have ended in a tragic, poetic Elizabethean death. I slept all day, and all night, until it finally broke 6am the following morning, which was yesterday.

Yesterday I had a meeting at my attorneys office. You might be wondering why I would need to sit in the office of an aottorney since my divorce is now 6 something yeas out, but this was the attorney that has been a more than just a an attorney to me. She has been a good friend through some of my darkest of times in the last 10 years. 10 years ago this year,  someone commintted a crime against my family. I don’t want to talk about the details, because it is still something I have a difficult time discussing on a public forum. , It was something pretty shitty to have happen, and the horrible human was sentenced to nearly 13 years for the shitty choices. One might believe that when the offender goes to prison that the people left in the path of their fury can finally heal and move on, but that isn’t always the case, at least not in mine. I’ve had to endure moving numerous times to avoid the stalking from the people who believe in their innocence, sit at the department of corrections to identify my family in photos that were receovered from their cell when it came to light that someone had taken recent photos of my children and sent them to this horrible human. I’ve had to constantly advocate for rights of victims in our state, and deal with private investigators who were hired to find us. Not long ago, the sister of this horrible human posed as a teenage boy to try and friend one of my chilren on Facebook, claiming to be a heart patient, as he is, and sent him a phone number to text because “my grandmother only let;s me text, not talk”. When my son told me of this conversation, I was skpetical and posed as my son for an hour of the conversation. I asked questions that I knew I could fact check, and sure enough nothing this person said could be found to be truth. This person even went as far to tell me “his” birthdate was a mix of my own children’s birthdates. I knew whoever it was, wanted my son to text from his phone number so they could trace it. A quick trace of the phone number that was given,  was traced back to this horrible humans sister, and once again I had to contact police to go have a talk with her and remind her that she shouldn’t be aiding this human to locate us. Needless to say, it hasn’t always been a smooth 10 years, and while I would like nothing more than for all of this to be behind us, I have to constantly be on my guard. It’s not easy to trust others, always wodnering in the back of mind if I somehow relax if that will be the one time I wish I hadn’t.

So there I was a few weeks ago at a government agency handing over very personal documents to the receptionist regarding my children and their care, and the receptionist starts talking to me. At first I thought she was nice, but something quickly felt off about the conversation. She was asking questions about my children that I thought odd for a receptionist to ask. Like where did they go to school, and things like that. I looked puzzled, I am sure, but then she asked me if I recognized her. Of course I don’t because 10 years has passed, and not to be mean, but girl has gained a shit load of weight. When I told her her I didn’t, she called herself out as someone that knew this horrible person, and testified at trial as their character witness. I was floored. She then proceeded to explain to me that she believed in their innocence (keep in mind this horrible human CONFESSED their crimes)  and she then looked down at our address and proceeded to  ask more personal questions about my kids and where we live.  I will spare you all the inbetween details, because I am so exhausted from talking about it, but it ended with me removing the papers from her desk and filing a complaint.

Fast forward to yesterday.

I sat in the office of my attorney, and another attorny while discussed a plan to remove the records from the agency, and how to put in place a protectoin to keep my family safe from being tracked down, yet again. Now keep in mind, I came back to this area a couple of years ago because my son was really sick. I needed to be near people that cared about us, and I knew would be supportive during the emotional up and downs of everything going on. I still fly under the radar for the most part, but the few times I have seen people they have been very gracious, and no one has made me feel like I did that day in that office. I never expected someone to confront me like that, no less from behind at desk while they were at work. Why someone even still believes in the innocence of a confessed offender is beyond me, but shows the mindset of these people who obviously lack common sense. I feel like I am dealing with the human version of North Korea as a collective.
While I sat in the meeting I felt removed from everything. I sat there and found myself wondering why the hell I had to be in this situation in the first place. How the hell did I end up here? This took place 10 fucking years ago. When will the advocacy stop? When will I just be taken at face value that this happned to us, and people care enough to want to help when it is in their powers? Why do I have to tell my story once again, and exploit all the pain and shitstorm to get people to understand this isn’t a fucking joke? Why do I have to feel victimized all over again, and again to get people to step up? I wanted to stand up from the table and just run out. I wanted to rush home, load a UHAUL, and just disappear once again. I wanted to scream, cry, and pull an iconic movie moment from The Elephant Man and scream “I am not a monster!”.

Instead I shut down.

I shut down so hard, I became indifferent. Anyone that knows me knows that when I become indifferent, I am beyond angry. I am angry, hurt, exhausted, and it’s the only way I can cope with the overwhelming emotions of being dogpiled by circumstances. It’s not a pretty place to be, but it is the only place I can find a haven to shift into auto pilot and continue with my life. Once I hit indifference though, I am pretty much done. All the small battles, all the hurdles, everything.. just become something I no longer want to deal with. That’s the thing about me though, when I need to face something I want to deal with it. When there is an argument, I want to make it right. When I have done a wrong, I want to make sure I own it, but when I hit indifference, I am just done. Yesterday, I was just done.

I know I can’t always be done with this, and I know I will have to advocate along the way, but omg I just want a life. I want to be able to live, and walk freely without wondering if someone sees me and reports back to the powers that be that want to blame me for whatever wrongs they feel in life. I want to stay in one place, love one person, establish a life where I can make connections in my community and just be. I want to just focus on life ahead and not have to constantly advocate because of my past. I just want this to all be over and move on.

I was thinking about all of this earlier today while I was driving. You know my ex, the one who inspired this blog, knew of my past. I believed her being in law enforcement somehow was the polar opposite of this horrible human, and that her job defined her integrity. I was wrong, of course, but it gives a glimplse into the level of betrayal I felt when I had to kick her out. I don’t trust people easily, and perhaps you can now understand a portion of why. Loyalty, and honesty are the two paramount qualities I look for in people I trust into my life. Without those I have nothing. There is nothing.

So yesteray while in full shut down mode, I went into McDonalds to have lunch. This might not seem like a big deal, but I don’t typically sit in McDonalds on my own. Not because I hate sitting alone, but I just don’t like dealing with people face to face in public. I went becuase I wanted to feel something.. anything. I wanted to feel apart of a crowd, and just blend in. Instead I sat there looking down at my phone trying only to look up when I was done eating and notice that the place had filled up. I still felt disconnected and so I just got into my car and drove home in silence. I wanted to go to bed, sleep, and just escape to a dream state reality where hopefully there was unicorns and ranbows covered in butterflies. Instead I went home and tried to figure out a way I can have a normal life. When my mental list proved to a be a grand failure, I did decide that this just can not continue. As much as I tried to pull myself out of my funk, it just seemed to stick around like lint to a new sweater.

I don’t know what the magic formula is for someone to have a normal life after going through such a shitty thing. I keep trying to stick to the future and look at all the good that is taking place around me, and it sucks so hard that I hit my feet while jumping a hurdle, but I am trying. If I could find a way to shift all the shitty to something ppowerful and good, I would because I am tired of running away. I am so very, very tired of the sins of others suffocating the goodness of people and joy from my life. I feel super lost right now, and somewhat discouraged that perhaps this is it. This is my life forward on. I don’t want it to be. I want to live out my life list, and know what it is like to just “be”. I want what others have, to see beautiful things, see places, meet people, and write a story that is void of pain and betrayal. I want to know at the end of it all, that I was able to know there are people out there who aren’t interested in hurting me, or take advantage of my hungry soul for all the things that nourish it.

I want to write a happy story.

How the hell did I get here?

 

 

My Big Fat Life – Biopsy

In Uncategorized on March 9, 2017 at 1:27 am

Recently I had a biopsy. It was one of the more painful experiences I have had, and one I don’t wish on anyone. It was probably worse than the waiting for results, but the waiting certainly sucked.

I was convinced they would find something, thank god they didn’t, because my body has been an asshole. While I am super happy they didnt find anything, it still didn’t provide any resolution to help fix what’s seemingly wrong, so that part sucks.

During the waiting period I went through some self reflection as scenarios played out in my head. What if I was sick, who would take care of my kids? What about all the things on my life list that I haven’t done yet? Why did I wait so long to start marking things off, and what if they never came to pass? Am I happy, truly happy, where my life is now? I couldn’t give myself any answers either in the heightened moments of anxiety, other than through it all I was experiencing something I hadn’t really had before, and that was the support from someone I love.

In my life I have been through some pretty big situations, as we all have. I dont really know how many people tried to be there for me, as I had pushed people away in my need to cope and survive. I somehow believed love would only bring a level of vulnerability that would only weaken me when I needed to focus on being strong. That might sound backwards, but any attempts up to this point had only proven to be one big disaster after another. Letting go of people and relationships in the face of a storm was my nautral shedding of anything I didn’t deem as essential to survive whatever it was I was going through. In my mind it was the right thing to do,  not too much unlike people who are facing hypothermia and start shedding their clothing. When I read those stories I alwys think to myself “what the heck were they thinking?” but when you are in that place at the moment you truly feel like you are doing what you need to survive, no matter how backwards it is.

Years ago when I was reading Blue Like Jazz (Donald Miller) I had read something that resonated with me in a very powerful way. Donald writes:

“I’ve had about fifty people tell me that I fear intimacy. And it is true. I fear what people will think of me, and that is the reason I don’t date very often. People really like me a lot when they only know me a little, but I have this great fear that if they knew me a lot they wouldn’t like me. That is the number one thing that scares me about having a wife because she would have to know me pretty well in order to marry me and I think if she got to know me pretty well she wouldn’t like me anymore.”

Well if that isn’t my truth I don’t know what is. Things are far easier to maintain as long as things stay on a superfical level. There is no fear of getting hurt, being abandoned, having to nourish love when things get tough in other spaces of my life, or even having to think how my reactions might affect another. In all honesty, I become selfish to survive and knowing this has always kept me from even considering to be open to sharing life, really sharing life with someone else. I can’t honestly say I’ve ever truly been in love before now because of this. I have never truly been in a place to share life with another person up close and openly. I used to think this was the ideal way to live. My years invested in long distance, and shallow part time relationships is my testament to this truth.

While that is no longer my truth,  oftentimes I need to rewrite what I believe to be true, and it has been one of the most raw, true and beautiful chapters I have ever lived.

While I feel I was somehow given more time to finish writing the book of my life, I still feel like there are some chapters I need to start working on. The urgency I feel to start living and stop dreaming has felt a bit big at times, and I am not sure exactly if I need to really dive head in, or stop for a moment and remind myself that even if I never see a firefly that my life is pretty awesome right now as it is. I’m working that balance out, because I don’t want to give up on my dreams just yet. Instead I want to share them with him and be a part of his as well. I’ve never wanted that before, and perhaps that is the best part of it all.

 

My Big Fat Life – Prom Queen 

In Uncategorized on January 12, 2017 at 2:57 pm

Today sucks. I’ve spent a majority of my day in bed, nursing an emotional hangover of an all night marathon of crying about everything under the sun. OK mostly my life, but if I were to think about more, I’d have cried about the upcoming inauguration as well. 

Sometimes I wonder why people even have dreams about things they’d like to do or experience. I personally can’t help myself. I’m a romantic, passionate when it comes to love, and things I long to know. I don’t seem to lack any imagination or ability to desire things, I just suck at the execution, and it’s my deepest fear I will die never knowing what it’s like to have touched a lot of things I’ve always wanted. Those dreams that have carried me through some of the worst moments in my life, knowing that there are still fireflies to see and a love that doesn’t hurt, to find. 

I’ve lost my faith in a lot the past 6 years, God being one of them. I guess what I mean to say is my understanding of what my faith was in has changed. Hope has turned to cautious hope, and quietly I’m letting my dreams go. I wonder if they were even worth having; if it would be wise of me to stop wishing or hoping that I could experience or even have what other women seem to have happen so naturally. There’s days like today when the knowledge in such a shitty world that fireflies exist, used to carry me through, but the longer I go without having ever seen one, the more I wonder if I’ve been a fool the entire time, just wasting time on silly wishes. 

I really don’t want the world to hurt as much as it does today, but it does and even if I still had that fierce hope and belief that good things are coming, I’m not sure daydreams of fireflies could even pull me through. 

Today sucks.

My Big Fat Life – I’m Sorry

In Uncategorized on November 30, 2016 at 11:21 am

Tonight as I was flipping though my Facebook newsfeed, I came across a meme that was void of cats or sunsets with self empowerment words, Kermit the Frog, or some quote attributed to famous person. Such a rare thing to see, I know. Yet it resonated with me more than anything Johnny Depp ever said didn’t really say.

sorryIf you have ever spent much time talking to me, you know that is something I do excessively. I apologize for everything. I apologize for being boring, asking questions, talking, feeling, crying, having an opinion, wanting a hug, needing reassurace, asking for help, nt asking for help, wanting to do something, not wanting to do something, any perceived irritation I may have caused, and pretty much all things. It’s almost as if I have somehow tranformed the words “I’m sorry” to equate a new form of punctuation. It’s the new sentence enhancer. It’s so annoying. Of course for that, I am sorry.

People have asked me to stop, and I can’t imagine how it must make people feel when I am apologizing for things. Perahsp they feel they have done something to instigate it, or think I must have the lowest self esteem possible that I would feel I need to pardon myself at every turn, and apologize.

When I was giving birth to my eldest, I had been in labor for 20 something hours, which in labor hours translates into 100 days. The delivering physician, Dr. Davis. was a tall lanky man with thin lips, who  I believe I saw smile a total of one time. I was convinced his face muscles made it incapable of him to do much aside from speaking in his quiet, yet demanding tone. This didn’t really provide much in the bedside manner department; something that a woman screaming in pain while a human emerges, could really benefit from.

When the 100th day of labor fell upon me, I was finally eady to push. Up until that time I imagined pushing would be a rather quick action, like I had seen in every sitcom or those birthing videos where pushing was made to look like this part took nothing more than the energy of an 80s Jazzercise video. No… it took me nearly an hour. Instead of screaming at the father of the alien about to shoot out of my belly, I apologized. I apologized to the Dr. and the staff for taking so long. I apologized the Dr. for screaming, I apologized for possibly interferring with dinner or any other plans he might have had. I apologized for crying, I apologized for bleeding everywhere, and I apologized for peeing while pushing, and pretty much evety other typical action that takes place when you are tying to give birth.

Dr. Davis for the most part was quiet during this process. He stood at the end of the delivery table and commanded with a dominant presence for me to push, and breathe. Instead I took a breath and used it as force to back my next plea to just remove that baby from my body and set me free. Of course, all followed by an apology.It was probably around my 7, 567, 895th apology that Dr. Davis then said in an exasperated tone “If you say you are sorry one more time, I am leaving this room. Now push!” It’s one of those moments I look back on and laugh, because it was almost comical if it wasn’t so real and so me.

If you remove the comedy, it remains that apologizing for everything is a habit I wish I could break. I know most people don’t know why they do this, but I am both fortunate and cursed to know exactly where this comes from. I think I can even recall the exact moment it started down to the moment it was imprinted.

One day, when I was very young.. maybe 5, maybe 7.. My mom hit me in the face with a razor strap. I seriously can’t recall what led to it;chances are I said something dumb for a kid, and instead of normal parenting reaction she hit me in the face with a razor strap. If you have no idea what a razor strap is, let me tell you that it like a belt on steroids. It’s not exactly something you want to hit your face as a kid, let alone an adult. It’s just a really bitchy thing to do. I remember standing there in shock, crying, bloody and apologizing for whatever it was. That was the birth. The confirmation came when I was 12. My mom had gotten dumped by some guy she had stolen money from while he was sleeping. He woke up, saw the money gone, and my mom told him I took it. I guess she thought it was safer for her if she said one of the kids had done it, but that didnt stop him from getting out of bed and spending an hour screaming at me for stealing something. I stood there with a dumb look on my face wondering why he was flipping out, but it was only after he yelled some words at mom and stormed out that she told me what had taken place. I was forced to apologize to that man for something she had done. As I was walking upstairs to my room, my mom started yelling at me for god knows what at that point and said “He’s never going to call me again and you know why? Becasuse every person I have ever had here, hates you. You have ruined every thing in my life and everyone hates you”. I apologized and just fell to the floor in shock. I sat on that staircase for what felt like a teenager lifetime, trying to figure out why everyone hated me. Why she hated me.

It would be years before I realized my mom is just a crazy bitch. I don’t blame myself for whatever she’s done to herself any longer, because as a woman I get that she is in control of her own shit. I have no idea who she blames for what these days, but I’m guessing she’s moved on a thousand times, but it didn’t stop the habit from forming in me from a super young age. It explains why I want to fix everything and why I don’t do well when tension is going on. I just want everything fixed. I will apologize even when I know I’m not completely to blame. I will apologize because I just want life and everything to be okay. I apologize because I want to feel safe. I apologize because I’m afraid if I don’t cover all my basis I will have somehow overlooked something and be blamed. I would probably have to use the stars in the sky to count all the times I have apologized for things that were my fault, and not my fault. I can likely use my hands to count all the times I have ever been apologized to. Maybe people think it’s pointless since I am going to own all the blame, but somewhere inside me that younger version of me realizes that I need to feel safe, and I can trust those around me not to hurt me, but if they do they’re going to own it. I guess the trick for me is to just own what is mine and not worry about everything else, which I am guessing worry is a by product of, but let’s not get started on mutations of crappy childhood habits.

I don’t really hold my breath that I am somehow going to magically change this shitty habit overnight, but I have been working on it. I will own what’s mine even when it sucks and it’s humilitating (which it usually is). There is usually always something I own. My words, my tone, my reaction or any of those things that belong to me, so that isn’t where I get stuck. It’s when I am apologizing for those things that aren’t mine that just gets me every single time. I’m working on it though, and hopefully I can start ending sentences with the proper grammar. The way the grammer nazi intended.

In other news.. Trump was elected president.

For that, I am truly sorry.

 

My Big Fat Life – Love

In Uncategorized on September 6, 2016 at 8:49 am

This morning I saw something on my FB newsfeed that struck me. I know over the years of writing here, that I have shared the devastation that comes from a broken relationship, and the realization it wasn’t really a relationship at all, but rather a superficial situation that was impossible to keep up. My biggest problem with the ex was that she had a belief that things were always supposed to be intense. She would constantly tell me that rush you get when you first meet is supposed to stay, and no one can keep that up. It’s not even realistic. It’s exciting, but it’s not even where the solid happens. When I saw this photo it struck me, because a few yeas ago I would have been trying to figure out where I went wrong in believing I am somehow so fundamentally broken that I couldn’t keep that initial rush alive.  Since then I matured in realizing it’s not even healthy, and things are supposed to change. You’re supposed to grow through the changes and something so remarkable happens when you do. So much more good comes from working through those transitions when you find your routines and make them work.

I’m sharing this because so many times I fell victim to those expectations and I need to share that if you are in this place, you need to let go of those. Those are the superficial, and as exciting and new as those are, it’s not what makes a life long relationship work. Any couple that has been together for the long term and makes things seem easy, will tell you that bumps in the road have come and they grew through them, and that is why it works. I’ve never been in a place myself until this past year, to be able to say that I have even been in a space to want to work together with someone to grow, so I am probably the last (or maybe that is why I am the best) to tell you that you have to let these superficial ideals go. Anyone can come alongside you and make you feel exciting and worth getting to know, but it’s when you meet someone that makes you feel you are worth being a part of, that’s the most solid thing I can ever remember feeling. It doesn’t always feel good, and it can leave you sore. I’ve had my pride wounded at times,, often at my own doing, but it’s forced me to realize some of my responses are so immature in thinking and letting those things go isn’t a hit no matter how much my pride wants to believe it is. But it’s something that makes me want to do better, to grow from, because for that moment when I feel sore or bruised, it’s not always like that.

Anyways, I felt a need to share this because I think this speaks to all of us in some way.

love

My response: ” Love is supposed to have that honeymoon phase. It’s the best. But things are supposed to mature and routines happen. You can’t measure your relationship based on the newness of it to how it’s evolved. Having said that, I’ve never stuck around long enough to try to work through the changes, and so I suck at those conversations. I get overwhelmed by my own responses, and sometimes they look bigger than how I know they rationally should be. I met someone who’s been a game changer for me, and so I want to work those changes not, while not expecting the idealized belief that everything is going to be as it is in the beginning, because as nice as those things are, it’s better when you move beyond the superficial of the initial rush of it all and you work to make the everyday routine solid. What we all want, is to be valued. To be a part of the routines, and grow in knowing that you’re worth, your love is worth, growing through the transitions together. I’d take a solid relationship over the initial excitement anyway. Because to me, that’s where the good happens when you can say you’re a team. Even when it means you’re a team working it out. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it when you grow together.”

I don’t know why, but I automatically thought of a scene from Friends that I saw once, and said to myself “I want that”.  While at times I have had to really sit myself down and remind myself that how I might be feeling isn’t always how it is (I’m so Monica in this scene), I haven’t ever met someone before who has challenged me to want to make things work in a way knowing it’s worth the investment to be open enough to meet halfway, until this past year. It’scary still sometimes, but the good outweighs everything else, and the things that come up are often from my own fear and really I need to figure that out. I’m not exactly awesome at this, God knows, but I have to remind myself I haven’t really allowed myself to be so open before, and often the growing pains hurt. 

So before you throw the baby out with the bathwater, keep in mind that maybe the world isn’t falling apart and a few bumps along the way are actually OK. Things are supposed to evolve, and that’s OK too.

My Big Fat Life –

In Uncategorized on September 5, 2016 at 10:02 am

Yesterday, over a late lunch, my daughter said something to me that was harsh, but true. I know it’s lame to say that and then not reveal what it was, but it’s something I feel I need to keep to myself right now. I know, I know.. while talking about it. I get it. It’s weird, but trust me, it’s something I just need to hold for a little longer.

I wrote two different paragraphs here but erased them, because it’s all just crap compared to what I know I need to do.

 

Ode 2 Progesterone

In Uncategorized on August 3, 2016 at 9:52 am

Some days I feel full. Some days I am so thirsty I can’t even begin to remember what it tastes like.

Some days I feel like an adventurer, and others I feel like a sloth merely the keeper of the couch.

Some days I feel I’ve lived a weird, but interesting story.Others, I feel like the most boring human on the planet and all of my stories should include dragons and victory.

Some days, I feel blanketed and others I feel cold

Some days I feel like my world teeters on the value I provide, and sinks when all there is, is me.

Some days I just need to be reminded that I matter, and some days I couldn’t give a shit whether I matter at all.

Some days I want love to be loud with confetti and a band, and others I just want Netflix and literally just to chill.

Some days I want a kiss on the forehead, to be told I’m beautiful. Others, I already feel it.
Mostly, I want to be safe in all that word encompasses.

Most of all, I want off this damn medication that makes my heart sad.

 

 

My Beautiful Friend – Deborah Heyer

In Uncategorized on July 12, 2016 at 11:45 am

My heart is just so sad this morning, and so I come out of my hiatus to write.

Around 2am this morning I learned that my friend Deborah Heyer had passed away.The world feels darker today.

.I met Deborah when she reached out to me on Facebook in January of 2013. At first we just talked about the misfortunes of dating and shared struggles we both encountered with meeting someone special in this crazy world, but It wasn’t before we exchanged phone numbers and talked on the phone. Instantly I was taken by her energy and charisma, her love for life, and her dreams she set out to accomplish.s won’t even pretend I have the skills to describe how awesome she was, but I can tell you that She loved her children, she loved her life, and her infectious smile could make you believe that life truly was amazing and perhaps I just wasn’t looking at it right when I felt super shitty about something.

Her life seemed to be falling into place for her before she got sick, which is why it’s hard for me to talk about the cancer.  I feel if I give it attention I am somehow giving a scene stealer the attention it wants, but never deserves. I hate it. I hate that it made my friend sick, and I hate that it wrote the ending to her story her on earth. It just doesn’t seem fair. Before anyone can even tell me how unfair it is,  I know, but damnitt wouldn’t it be nice when we finally find happiness in our lives and things seem to be going wonderful if we get a respite from the shit and enjoy a grace period so that we could enjoy the happy for an extended amount of time? Just a season of joy to enjoy basking in the sun of what’s making us so happy?

That would be amazing.

But it’s not reality. Reality is life is super hard sometimes, and my precious friend and her smile will be missed.

I know it’s not the end of Deborah in sense of completion, because her story and love ripples through the people she touched. As a mom and a nurse, and a friend she has left a legacy that will always have touched lives. That’s a scene cancer can’t steal and one that will live in someway, forever.

God speed, my friend. Wherever you are resting right now, it will always be blanketed in love.

With love,

Lia

Deborah

My Big Fat Life – Goodnight.

In Uncategorized on March 17, 2016 at 10:30 pm

April 18th, 2011 I wrote my first entry on this blog even though for legal reasons it’s  now on private. I can’t recall where my keys currently are, but somehow I remember that night vividly. I was feeling pretty alone in this world, and writing seemed to be the only place I could talk at 2am. That was a tough time. I had lived in that forsaken town and I was now on my own. I knew no one, I was suddenly on my own paying all the bills, and every promise made to me was broken. It’s hard to believe almost 5 years has passed since that night. I remember being so afraid for what the next day held, and here I am so far away from that time alienated in more ways than I would have imagined at the time.

The past 5 years has brought some changes:

I’ve learned you can’t live like it’s the last moment of your life at all times, because dishes still need washed and you need clean socks.

We don’t always let the small stuff go despite how close to death we have stood, because what might seem small tomorrow can still feel pretty big today.

My Mom is most likely the mutant offspring time traveller from a parallel universe where she is the result of a verbal love affair between Stephen King and M Night Shamalayn.

I have lived through a divorce, a 3am call from Japan when my son called to tell me he had cancerous growth, another son with 2 open heart surgeries, my daughter got married, 4 rings, three marriage proposals, two exes that wouldn’t let go, realizing I’m not gay, and the American Embassy mediating a partridge in a pear tree.

I’ve learned that protecting something means standing up against a threat coming at you, and insecurity is holding a weapon aimed at your fears, which in reality is pointing the weapon at yourself.

Fear is not fact. You can split hairs on that, but I think you get what I mean.

I’ve learned that people expected me to write love letters, but had zero clue how to write one to me. I’ve also learned that the best way to write love, is to live it.

I’ve been at my sons beside twice in ICU after open heart. The first time I was in a demanding relationship with someone who I was unhappy with that added to my stress on a deep level, and seeing my son on a ventilator made me realize I wasn’t even living the life I wanted. The second time I had a supportive partner, and I saw first hand how all the difference being with someone who is unconditional, is. He was kind, compassionate, thoughtful, sensitive, and not once made me feel bad for crying or being stressed out. I saw a part of life that I wanted.

I’ve learned that it’s okay to speak my mind, and those worth my time will talk to me about how it makes them feel if they take issue. Those who just walk away without notice were/are self serving. Fuck them.

“Friends” who continue to be offensive towards you when you have spoken to them about how hurtful they are being towards you, are also self serving assholes. Fuck them too. Friends talk, friends compromise, friends try to clear the air or at least have a mututal respect even when you don’t agree. Anything less is just an aquaintance. 

I’ve learned that anyone who tries to make me feel crazy for feeling the way I do, isn’t worth my time. It’s okay to be wrong and misunderstand. It’s called being human. Those who value your friendship and/or relationship will take the time to talk to you about it because they care and understand that maybe you aren’t seeing all the facts. It’s not okay  when someone tries to make you feel crazy or stupid because of how you feel in that moment. If they do, chances are you just called them out on their bullshit and they want to put it on you rather than be honest or take responsibility. They don’t care about your feelings, they just care about not having to deal with it. Fuck that group of people too. Trust me on this.

Don’t be with someone who is never wrong and isn’t willing to apologize when they are. Always own what is yours, but be with someone who loves you enough to be humble as well and own what’s theirs as well. It’s not about always being right. Love is not a competition between the two of you. You’re a team, and teams figure out how to be strong….. together. 

Don’t be with someone who claims every failed relationship was because of the other person. This is a red flag, and you should run as quick as your feet can take you. I don’t care how good they look. There is not one person in this world who is gorgeous enough to ignore the red flags for. No. One. Looks fade, my friends. Crazy will always be.

I’ve encountered a variety of these people in the couse of 5 years, and it’s with confidence I warn you about them. Maybe you are like me and won’t heed a bit of advice I give, because perhaps this is different and your situation will turn out differently. For your sake I hope it is, and it does. If it doesn’t though, don’t kick yourself too hard. Just live better. Trust me, you can.

*end of list, but not end of lessons learned*

A few days ago a friend of my son-in-law made an update on his Facebook page. It says to   let others know how much you love them, because you never know what’s going to happen tomorrow. He has experienced a lot of loss in his life lately, and was feeling it. He died in a car accident the day after writing that update. His last words to people who commented were of love, and making plans to get together. That’s his legacy. Not some angry status update, not words that hurt, nor some crazy meme. I was almost guilty of that with the last blog I published which I am sure you notice has since been removed. I promised myself when I started this I woudln’t censor myself short of committing libel, but I didn’t want to leave that up there. While I was pretty upset, one thing I didn’t do was own my part in what happened. I wasn’t free of guilt by any means, and I can only work on my responses to things so that I don’t so the same thing again. Not repeating the same shit is ultimately the best apology one can make, thankfully we talked and are working it out, but I realize that blog entries like that not the legacy I want to leave behind. It’s because of this I decided that the time has come for me to take a break from writing. There are things I want to do now that Gabriel has had his surgery, and I would like to just focus on those things this season of life. I need to do some self-care, and experience some life. I need to learn to not live in crisis mode 24/7, and take a breath. I feel like my blog started as a result of a horrible situation that happened in a horrible place, and now that I am out of both horrible spaces, I need to venture out and have a few adventures in better places with better people, holding the hand of my person.

I am not fully abandoning this blog, because  a part of my history is written here. I will come back from time to time, but I’m not sure when. Maybe it will be months, maybe longer.. who knows. I don’t want to think about it. If you want to, you can email me anytime you want to talk or reach out, and I will respond.

Thank you all for being a part of my journey. I couldn’t have done this without your love and support.

I wish you all love, peace, and happiness..

Much love,

L

lesbian_spaghetti@yahoo.com